


Traditions Kept

by Anika_Ann



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Attempt at Humor, Awesome Tony Stark, Awesome Wanda Maximoff, Cheek Kisses, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Clint Barton Is an Infant, Confused Thor (Marvel), Cute Vision (Marvel), F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Kissing, Love Actually References, Mistletoe, Reader-Insert, Sam Wilson is a little shit, all the kisses, avenger!reader, steve rogers is a sweetheart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-19
Updated: 2018-12-29
Packaged: 2019-09-22 19:05:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17065379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anika_Ann/pseuds/Anika_Ann
Summary: Christmas has arrived to the Avengers Tower.Sam is a little shit, competing with Clint, Thor and Vision are confused, Natasha is done, Wanda knows the best, Tony saves a life and you and Steve are caught in the middle of it all.But who knows, maybe a Christmas miracle will occur in the end and the holiday spirit will work its magic.





	1. Good morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which terrible morning turns out quite nice. Like really, _really_ nice, considering.

_You didn’t know why you had agreed. You hated night clubs. You had no freaking clue what the music should be to enchant people and made their bodies moving. But here you were, showing your undying support to your sister’s business, because you simply couldn’t have let her go through the process of hiring a new DJ alone._

_You didn’t mind it per se – hell, you would be delighted to help you sis, but god, this particular guy was such an arrogant d-_

_“Hey, my shit is fine, it’s your tech that’s broken or somethin’,” he insisted and for the fourth time, you had swallowed the venomous remark about the others having no trouble with it and you actually went to the huge speaker to check the cords and plugging._

_It seemed to be just fine, but by the ultimate rule of tech guys, you tried to turn it off and on._

_It didn’t help. You shot Jessica a desperate glance, while the guy – Finn, was it? – crossed his arms on his chest as if he was the fucking king of the universe. You gritted your teeth and reconnected the plugs once more._

_All the power went out._

_“You’ve gotta be kid-“ started the Finn guy, but he never finished._

_There was a bang so loud it made your hands shot up to your ears, then it got impossibly louder and then – then there was silence._

_And the next thing you knew, there were sparks flying right around you, unbearable pain erupting in your ears and a shockwave of explosion threw your body backwards. You had a fraction of second to feel as if there was everything and nothing around you, then you would swear you felt the crack of your bones vibrating through your body and finally you found yourself surrounded by screaming black._

You jerked awake, panting, your PJs soaking wet, a cry on your lips – you quickly swallowed it before you could trash a wall with the force of your voice.

Intrusive beeping of your alarm made you whine instead and you wanted to block the sound completely, falling back to the cushions, not feeling like raising your hand to actually turn It off; one of the perks of your powers.

You could manipulate sound waves, bend them, muffle them completely, of simply change the amplitude enough to actually tear someone eardrums – or to bring down a building; which was why you had to swallow your scream, because when seriously stressed, your powers went still a bit haywire.

Or they didn’t listen when you were shot by some Chitauri Crap, something of the same origin that had given you your powers during the Battle of New York. An alien Invasion. The unpleasant memory you had just dreamed through.

You whined again as the alarm wouldn’t shut up.

_Right. Shot with Chitauri Crap. Temporarily (hopefully) dampened powers. No dangerous screams. No bringing down buildings. No silencing alarm simply by your mind._

You reached for the phone blindly and honestly couldn’t believe it was seven a.m. already. You felt like sleeping for a week or so.

Which wasn’t an option, so coffee it was.

Not bothering to brush your teeth or to do anything beside putting on non-sweaty clothes including an oversized hoodie, you made your way to the common kitchen of the Avengers Tower.

"Oh, wow. I would ask what kind of a bird you are, owl or lark, but I think I just got my answer," cheerful voice of Sam Wilson welcomed you in the new day and you just squinted at him, your eyes offended at the amount of light, now reflecting from his too bright smile.

"How about a say-one-more-word-before-I-can-get-my-hands-on-coffee-and-I-mute-you kind of bird?" you grumbled, shuffling to the kitchen isle, not keen on the thought of coming closer to him. But it was necessary evil, since he was between you and the coffee pot.

Thank god, someone had already made coffee. Bless them – unless they were Sam Wilson and his sassy mouth.

The man actually chuckled.

"Ah, empty threats…. Though then I could confess my undying love to you, Love Actually style, including cute pictures and all that."

You just growled what was supposed to be ‘shut up’ and poured yourself a cup.

"Aww, don't be like that, Tweety," he teased you, brushing your arm playfully.

You sat at the opposite side of the table, as far from him as you could, glaring as you sipped the god’s best creation after sleep (nightmare free sleep, that was).

"Call me that again and I'll _tweet_ your pictures from the last party for the world to see," you threatened, satisfied at the horrified face he made, the flashy smile gone instantly.

To be fair, they were terrible pictures. He was wearing bikini. In lovely pink colour.

"Ouch. Low blow."

You smirked into your cup, breathing in the heavenly smell as well, instantly feeling a bit better. You were so enchanted at the drink you didn’t even hear anyone enter until another voice greeted you only few feet from you.

"Morning everyone!"

"Morning, Cap," Sam replied gleefully, his grin returning as you almost jumped out of your skin at Steve’s voice.

You shot him a quick pathetic smile before returning to your drug. The one that had no blue eyes, disarming smile and dreamy body. _Anyway_.

You set down your cup, wrapping your fingers around it, examining the pattern of the table… and just that very moment, warm soft sensation caressed your left cheek, disappearing almost immediately.

“Morning, Warbler,” Steve whispered gently, quickly retreating and casually walking to the pot then.

You sat frozen, your eyes wider than ever, your heartbeat pounding in your ears, feeling the blood rushing to your cheeks. You blinked several times, wondering if… if you only imagined this or Steve had just kissed your cheek.

Steve Rogers’ freakin’ lips had touched your cheek, his voice stroking the tender spot and— he had called you a warbler, which wasn’t all that unusual, because his nicknames were always sweet and adorable, but-- what?

"Whoa, Steve. Loving much? Where's my good-morning kiss?" Sam complained and you honestly couldn’t care less about the annoying teammate of yours.

It was just another prove that it had happened. Steve had kissed your cheek. Your devastatingly beautiful friend had kissed you.

You were suddenly very awake, but also kinda awe-struck.

"Well...uhm...” the captain stuttered and you hesitantly raised your gaze to him, seeing the tips of his ears red as much as your face was. He gestured vaguely your direction. ”Well, Sam, you don't have a mistletoe above your head-"

"She doesn't have it eith— _holy hell_ , how did I miss that, I would have taken that seat!" he cried out, staring at something above your head and you couldn’t resist – while you were pretty sure there was nothing, but hey, your tonight’s sleep was shit, so… - and there was actually a tiny green thing, the sweet and annoying symbol of holiday spirit.

Well. That made more sense. You couldn’t help but feel disappointed – there was a completely different reason for your teammate to kiss you. No romantic feelings. You were on your own. Unsurprisingly. You tried to keep your face unfazed.

"Too late," Wanda hummed as she entered the kitchen, followed by Natasha and Vis. “Morning, everyone.”

You managed to return the greeting, your gaze escaping to Steve. He was watching you and hastily looked away when caught, his fingers fumbling with the teaspoon in his mug.

And for a second, you allowed yourself indulge the sight of him, fresh from shower after he had gone to the gym – probably at about 5:30, dork – tiny smile on his lips as if he was in love with the coffee in front of him.

Making yourself an actual breakfast consisting of milk and cereals, you sometimes caught his eyes over the table, both of you always shying away. When it happened for the fourth time, you were bold enough to charm a little smile.

He smiled in return.

The strangest thing was that when you placed your cup and bowl to the dishwasher and turned to leave, the mistletoe was nowhere to be found.

You blinked once, twice, but it was still gone. You exited the room with an inconspicuous shake of your head, wondering if you had imagined the whole thing.

But the soft kiss was still tingling on your skin, telling you it had definitely happened.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn’t think I would write a Christmas fic this year. But here we are. So let’s just embrace the fluff, shall we? Also, it was supposed to be short. Well…. 
> 
> I promise to post every other day, hopefully I’ll live up to it and bring a little Christmas atmosphere to you as well.
> 
> I’d be delighted if you let me know what you thought or left kudos if you felt like it :))
> 
>  


	2. Midgardian traditions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Thor learns about the meaning of the poisonous plant hanging from the ceiling and comes to conclusion that Midgardians are a bit strange.

A loud bang sounded from the roof, shaking the whole Tower. Your heart almost jumped to your throat, before you realized what – or rather _who_ – it could be. Then you started to worry again.

Almost a year passed since you had joined the Avengers after several months’ training of your powers and combat skills, yet the peculiar team never failed to astonish you, every single one of them. It didn’t matter if it was their ‘normal-person’ side or the hero persona, their qualities (and faults) caught you off guard from time to time.

Take Tony, for example. Lots of the things people were saying about him were very true. He could be self-obsessed like anyone else you had ever met, cracking a joke, often at inappropriate time, and you were pretty sure half of the reason he wore long sleeves most of the time was so no one saw that instead of blood, he had coffee flowing in his veins. But the amount of care he actually put into others’ well-being was a well-kept secret.

Natasha was… much more motherly than you would have guessed. She was a merciless killer, there was no arguing that, but the fierceness she would fight when anyone on team was hit – either literally, or emotionally –, was something she didn’t share easily with anyone, but came to aid when you would expect it the least.

Clint was an actual infant. One would believe he was an old soul, having his own family, being a father of two kids he would graciously visited rather often (but was refusing to spend all Christmas with them, because the Avengers were his family as well), but nope. Maybe it was the company, the fact he was away from needing to be the responsible father, you weren’t sure. But _god_. The prank wars he would fight with Sam and Tony… when he didn’t need to be all business, he didn’t bother to be.

Vision was… an odd snowflake, but then again, he was an android, unfairly smart and adorable as he was still grasping human concepts. Him trying to learn by watching was just too endearing to get annoyed at being observed. But there was no doubt he was a kind man and enjoyed the company. And the rare occasions he would drop in a joke… well. Simply precious.

Bruce was a haven. You admired his intelligence, but more so, his willingness to put up with the crazy bunch of people and the patience he had been (and still was) dealing with you and your powers, explaining their nature to you, apparently enjoying probing them – but always knowing the limits. He was a scientist with his whole soul, not rocking the whole social world, however, when he would crawl from his shell, he was a pleasant company. Not to mention that he was one of the people you didn’t feel bad for resting in comfortable silence.

Trying to read Wanda Maximoff seemed impossible and at the beginning of your stay, you felt rather uncomfortable in her presence, especially knowing she could read you without breaking a sweat. Or snap your neck from the other side of the room with just the tinniest movement of her fingers. You had an enormous respect to her powers, but you were surprised to find out that she was one of the warmest people in the Tower. Also, she was young. She was the closest to your age and since she had suffered in her home, she loved to indulge life now.

Steve Rogers… was all you expected from a man who crushed a plane and ended his life to save millions of other people; brave and honest, determined and truest leader. It wasn’t hard to look up to him, but it was near impossible not to feel like a lesser human being by his side. He was untouchable. Ever when he was trying, carefully dropping the iconic persona and allowing himself to be an ordinary self-conscious (!) man, there was no way he could achieve that. You liked him. You liked him a lot, you admired him, but most importantly, you grew so fond of him you could easily call it love. Forever unrequired and ridiculous love.

His smile warmed up your heart and made you smile in return, you almost melted when he praised you, his eyes were the most beautiful thing you ever seen and… and yet none of those things was why your heart called for him.

The moment had come when you couldn’t sleep, wandering into the common room at three a.m., and found him curled up on the couch, absently staring into a book. He had tried to compose himself when you entered, but his eyes were glassy and lost in another world. The façade crumbled when you gently prodded for long enough.

He had confessed to having nightmares about Bucky. About feeling the pain he had felt when injected the serum and stretched in every possible direction. About remembering the cold biting into his bones. About this whole world being strange. You couldn’t bear it. You hugged him, almost shocked when he buried his head in your shoulder and returned the embrace with crushing force, ruining the picture of him you had created in your mind as if he snapped his fingers. A new picture was painted and you fell in love with it.

He would never show weakness like that again. Yet, he seemed a little more approachable then and occasionally, you sensed that his effort to make you feel like an equal to him actually had an effect.  And there were few more nights you would find each other in the common room and just talked and talked…

Enough about Steve. Moving on. _(You wish.)_

The last member of the team had just arrived, you supposed.

Thor. Thor was… an alien in every sense of the word. You had only interacted with him once and rather shortly, but it was enough to leave an impression. Also, the fuss about his visit had been enough to leave you dumbstruck for days. 

So you mentally prepared for that when suddenly there was crack of thunder and a huge lightning bolt hit the Tower. You looked up from you book, worried what had happened to bring Thor to your base.

Once again, you were not ready for the broad smile the God wore when he entered the common room simultaneously with you.

“Hello, my friend!” he greeted you hearty, immediately pulling you into a hug.

You gasped, but reciprocated the gesture a smile appearing on your lips. “Hello, Thor. What brings to— Earth?”

He released you, patting your shoulder; it almost sent you to the ground with him not knowing his strength.

Clint, Steve and Sam rushed into the room, panic all over their workout-sweaty faces.

“What wrong?” Steve blurted out, stopping dead in tracks when he saw the expression Thor wore.

As a consequence of his abrupt stop, Wanda crashed into him from behind.

“Sorry, sorry-“ she muttered, but Steve just waved it off, making space for her and staring at the alien expectantly.

“I heard a Midgardian holiday is approaching and that it is customary to visit my friends at least. So here I am! I have to admit, the colourful lights feel festive, but on Asgard, we appreciate food and drinks more…”

“Oh there will be drinks and food,” Clint assured him, grinning and finally relaxing, just like everyone else.

“But I don’t understand why there is this plant over here. I think I’ve been told it’s poisonous…? Why would you hang a poisonous plant for this holiday of all days?” Thor asked, gesturing towards the mistletoe few feet from him.

You frowned – you would swear it wasn’t there a moment ago.

“It’s a tradition, Thor. If you find yourself under mistletoe with someone, you give them a kiss,” Wanda explained with a grin, followed by Thor’s surprised ‘oh’.

The next thing you knew, you were being pulled that direction by a strong hand of the god, his arm wrapping around your waist when you stumbled.

And then his lips met yours with a loud wet smack, effectively stealing your breath despite the kiss only lasting for a fraction of second. You gaped at him as he grinned at you from above – because he was just that damn tall – and everything went silent.

You looked at the team still standing near the doorway and they had all their jaws on the floor.

Sam was the first to crack, instantly followed by Clint. They roared in laughter, while Wanda slowly made her way to you and Thor with giggles. She patted Thor’s arm gently and he released you, frowning, not following why his friends were laughing.

“It has to be a chance meeting, Thor. You can’t just drag someone under the mistletoe,” the Sokovian noted kindly, the corners of her lips twitching as she placed a short kiss on his cheek. “And usually, we go for cheek.”

A realization dawned on Thor’s face and he looked at your still dumbstruck expression.

“Oh. My apologies, Nightingale.”

“It’s… it’s okay,” you stuttered, your heart finally slowing down in your chest. That was… unexpected. You felt your cheeks burning. “You just took me by surprise. It’s alright, next time you’ll know.”

Sam’s and Clint’s laughter died as you hinted them there could be a next time. Scared they might be next for Thor to kiss, they escaped the room abruptly and you could hear they started laughing as soon as they rounded the corner of the hall.

Steve on the other hand, stared at the three of you with a strange expression on his face you couldn’t decode. You opened your mouth to ask, but he quickly charmed a smile that didn’t reach his eyes and walked to your group only to shake Thor’s hand warmly.

“Welcome, Thor. I’m sure the others will be here soon to give you a taste of Christmas spirit.”

You seated the God on the couch while Wanda went to prepare some Christmas punch. After all, drinks had been promised.

Apparently, Asgardians and Midgardians weren’t that different.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don’t feel like I’m rocking the whole writing Thor, but hopefully he was in character. 
> 
> Thank you for the kudos and comments :))
> 
> Annoying Clint and Sam coming next!


	3. Who made up the rules?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clint messes around, because he’s an actual infant outside of being a father. Sam is no different.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forgive me, this one's a little silly, I promise to get better ;)

“Sam, stop it.”

You all but needed Sam’s humour right now. Heading to the gym at seven a.m. sucked enough on its own – and it had been your idea. You knew that the general friendly and loose atmosphere surrounding the holidays made you slacken any attempt at keeping a lean figure, not to mention that without your powers, you felt… well, powerless. So you had suggested a sparring slash work-out session with Natasha. She had been absolutely delighted and it scared the shit out of you.

You had cursed yourself when you had realized her work-out hours were at this ungodly hour. You hated morning exercise. But being the one who had come up with it, you couldn’t have called it off. So you bit the bullet, got up earlier and now you were walking down the hall.

Followed by a drone.

Carrying mistletoe.

Sam Wilson was a freaking menace to society.

“Come on… you love my new friend, Nightingale. He’s a friend of yours too, my Redwing, a little birdie-“

“Samuel Wilson, that goddamned machine has been following me since I left my room, it is not my friend,” you growled, taking a sharp turn. “It’s a stalker.”

“Oh, look at you, Grinch. So grumpy with the Christmas approaching… are you gonna steal all the presents too?” Sam’s mechanically transformed voice teased you and you let out an irritated huff.

 _“No._ Though you should know – not to brag, but I pack a mean punch, Birdboy. And I _will_ punch that thing unless it stops following me.”

You would be delighted at Sam choosing you as the target of his shenanigans; it meant he had accepted you as a teammate, that he was your friend… but god, not so early in the morning. Not when you were about to get your ass kicked by a Russian assassin.

You finally saw the transparent door of the gym, your salvation, and you sped up.

“Hey! You cannot outrun your shadow! And he has a name, you know!”

“Sure,” you uttered, sneaked into the gym, quickly snapping the door closed. _Redwing_ stood no chance, hitting the glass with a muffled thud. You sighed in relief, noticing Natasha was already in.

“Sorry I’m late.”

“It’s okay. Do I wanna ask?” she asked cheerfully, already stretching. She eyed the drone that was still hovering by the door, but didn’t try to get in.

Shame. You half-expected tiny machine guns to appear from its mechanics and start shooting. God knew what the evil machine could do. For all _you_ knew, it could be a new Ultron; you heard the stories, alright, it was almost as if you had been there for the fights.

You scoffed. “You might, but I don’t have an answer.”

“Got it. Ready?”

“Not even close,” you admitted, heading to her. “I might have forgotten how to fight without using my powers. It sucks.”

Natasha gave you an encouraging smile that turned predatory. “I’m sure we can do something about that.”

You gulped. “Yeah. That’s what I’m afraid of.”

The spy laughed, tossing you hand wraps. “Just get ready, _devushka_. So you can punch Wilson’s freaky friend if it follows you again.”

“You mean Barton?” you mumbled, surprised when she huffed a laugh at your barely audible note.

“Yeah. Him too.”

\---

Your back hit the mat for the eighth time and you did not feel like getting up, air knocked out of your chest.

“You really are out of practice. It was a good call to have a session,” Natasha stated, barely sweating as she stood above you with her hands on her hips.

When you just groaned pathetically, she took a mercy upon you, offering you a hand.

It was the exact moment you noticed something hitting the ceiling above you, a little bit of plastering snowing down at you. You shielded your face so you wouldn’t breathe it in, or God forbid, taste it.

“What the—… _seriously?”_ Natasha exclaimed, raising her voice at the last word. She sounded as amused as irritated.

“You have to kiss now! You’re under a mistletoe!” Clint’s voice called back and you snapped your head the direction, finding him crouched by the second entrance, tens feet away, holding a bow.

A brief glance at the ceiling confirmed your suspicion; there was an arrow sticking from it now. With a mistletoe tied to it.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

You accepted Natasha’s hand and she pulled you up, quickly placing a kiss on your cheek.

“Hey! That doesn’t count!”

You rolled your eyes and kissed her cheek back as she smirked.

“Better, Barton?” Natasha yelled and even from the distance, you would swear you saw Clint made a face.

“That was barely a kiss! I want to see a proper one, ladies!”

“Well, when the tradition says ‘those standing under mistletoe shall exchange saliva,’ I will kiss differently!”

You burst out laughing, barely covering your mouth to muffle the sound.

“I will personally deliver the orders signed by Santa!” Clint yelled grumpily back at her and you couldn’t but grin at their exchange.

 _“Barton, why has FRIDAY informed me there’s an arrow-made damage to the gym’s ceiling?”_ Tony’s voice sounded from the speakers and you burst out laughing once more, tears in your eyes at Clint’s startled yelp and his abrupt leave.

“I’m looking forward to the documents!” Natasha called after him, but there was no chance he heard her, already too far. She turned to you then. “Ready for another round?”

“Of kissing or fighting?”

Natasha snorted before raising an eyebrow suggestively. “That’s up to you, _pevun'ya.”_

She winked, lunging after you and you barely managed to dodge her punch.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The shortest one so far. I guess writing humour isn’t my thing… I shall stick with fluff :D Btw, Natasha calls the Reader ‘lass’ and ‘songbird’.
> 
> And since I’ll be only posting on 25th, let me do one more thing: Merry Christmas to everyone! Or Happy Chanukah and I don’t know what else. Happy Whatever-your-poison-is :) 
> 
> And thank you for leaving kudos and/or comments, they are Christmas presents on their own ♥


	4. Kiss with a fist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which you’re annoyed at the early present from Hydra agents, hence giving the song title a whole new meaning.

More than once you had heard that Christmas time was about being closer to people, about loving, about giving.

That said and underlined three times, you were sure that the remains of Hydra fucking loved you all, because you received an early present on 22nd – in a form of a newfound active base. Which meant mission. You hated the no name Hydra goons from the bottom of your heart.

It didn’t help their case that your powers were still not working at all.

“You should sit this one out,” Steve advised you gently at the start of the debriefing and you just stared at him over the conference table, stunned.

It was only the soft tone he had spoken with that stopped you from snapping at him ‘I beg your fucking pardon’ style. Because if there was an idea you hated more than going on a mission on 22nd December evening, it was the idea of the rest of the team going while you would be sitting on your ass at the Tower, scared to death for them.

“I fail to see why,” you said instead, taking a calming breath, Steve instantly doing the same, closing his eyes.

“You know why. You’re not— as far as I know, your powers are still not restored.”

“I am more than my powers!” you protested, wounded despite the fact you had known it was coming and that he wasn’t exactly wrong. But you had tried! Natasha took her time with you and all the things you had learned were coming back to you – you had just needed to brush it up.

You leaned forward, forcing yourself not to jump to your feet in exasperation. No one dared to enter the dispute.

Steve raised his hand, attempting to calm you down. “I know that. I know you’re a good fighter too, but you haven’t been to a mission without the advantage of your powers before.”

You drew in a breath to make a case – without a leg to stand on, needless to say, because this time he was hundred percent right –, but he continued before you could speak, his intense eyes meeting yours. It made you gulp.

“It’s very simple, Nightingale. I just don’t want y— I just don’t want anyone on the team injured or worse-… _dead_. Not if I can help it.”

He held your gaze adamantly, his words going straight to your heart.

You weren’t stupid, you noticed the falter in his speech. Both of them – when he wanted to say ‘you’, which was something that made your heart clench, not uncomfortably; and when he couldn’t bring himself to say the word ‘dead’. You could only wonder what thoughts, what _memories_ ran through his head. Was he thinking about Bucky? He had told you about it, losing his friend for the first time. 

Any exasperation you had felt disappeared as if someone snapped their fingers. You felt your own features soften, mollified by his care, bordering with overprotectiveness.

“Okay. I do see your point,” you offered gently, but his frown didn’t resolve. He knew you. He knew there was a ‘but’ coming. “Let me hold the fort at least then. That way you won’t be person down. Let me come with you and handle the quinjet. Be your eyes and ears.”

It hadn’t been before the words left your lips that you realized it sounded as if you were making suggestion for him only. As if you were offering to be _his_ eyes and ears. You mentally scolded yourself, hoping you only imagined the blush creeping up your neck.

Steve must have noticed, because the tip of his ears definitely did turn red. Sam coughed, clearly trying to cover his amusement, but the rest of the team remained politely silent, probably amused only in their heads.

Steve took a deep breath and leaning his hand onto the table he finally relaxed for a bit.

“Alright. That does sound reasonable.” You almost beamed, lighting up like the freaking Christmas tree. Steve definitely acknowledged that as well and he didn’t seem very happy about it. “As for the rest of us…”

You sat back into your chair comfortably, listening as intently as if you were going to the field with them.

\---

Having one simple task – to be the eyes and ears –, you were taking it very seriously, hoping to contribute to the mission.

The team was either humouring you or they did appreciate your occasional notes about each member having an incoming. To your great amusement, you got to shout the one sentence you had wished to say for a long time, ever since Steve had told you how he had met Sam Wilson.

“Sam, incoming. On your left,” you hummed to the comms and heard Natasha snicker before her punching resumed.

“You’ll pay for that one, _Blackbird.”_

“Sure thing, _Birdboy._ Now fight or I’ll have to go help you.”

The cock of the gun behind you told you otherwise.

 _‘Or not,’_ you almost announced Sam.

You gulped loudly as you heard the scary sound right at your head and your gaze flickered up from the screen, hoping to get a glimpse of reflexion in the window. You had no such luck.

“Turn it off,” the assailant whispered in your ear and you slowly did as he asked since the barrel of his gun was offering you a pretty solid argument.

Of course, you only turned it of partly, cutting off the voices of the team, the communication now working one-way; from you to them. And since you had no clue how many agents were after you, you would leave the line open in case you needed back-up. Your ego could take a hit if it meant you would be alive.

 “Good girl. Now get off that seat. Slowly, keep your hands from your body,” the raspy voice of the man ordered and one again, you obliged.

After all, you would fight better if you could stand up first.

“I thought you were supposed to be the smart ones, you Avengers. Leaving such a little defenceless girl, all alone, to protect the jet, that’s just stupid, don’t you think, pretty girl? Now show me where you stocked the weapons.”

You grinded you teeth at the insults and sexist comment, but led him through the jet. Being close to a gun – which would not be at your head – sounded like a good idea too. Your eyes were roaming the whole space, looking for an escape route, your mind racing.

You approached the panel guarding the weaponry, stopping in your tracks. If this guy wanted to see defenceless and stupid, he could have it.

“There’s a fingerprint scanner. I don’t have the authorisation. I’m just the pilot,” you lied easily, rewarded by his irritated huff.

“And a combination?”

Yeah, that was the other option, clearly. You could see the keyboard as well, only a blind person would miss it. You mentally crossed your fingers.

“Yeah, I know it-“

“Then fucking enter it or I’ll blow your brains out!” he growled beside you, the barrel of the gun meaningfully nudging the nape of your neck.

“I c-can’t, I can’t let you-“

“Listen, doll face, I’ve been nice so far, but I _will_ kill you. Enter. The. Combination.” 

“Okay, okay-“ you sobbed, surprised by your acting skills.

Of course you tapped the wrong buttons. Twice. It was a _pure accident._

“Yeah, I’m blowing it to hell,” he noted, pushing you away, firing the gun twice. The screen flickered and died.

It was all the distraction you needed. You kicked the gun from the goon’s hand, sending it flying through the air. It went off for the third time with that action and you swiftly jumped after it, only to be caught by the man.

“Little bitch-“

You jerked from his grip, kicking the gun farer, out of your reach – but also his. You spun to him, your fists raised, ready to strike. You were taken aback by the knife in his hand. But hey, you handled much worse than a _knife._

It almost made you cocky.

"Look, there's no need to fight, right? It's Christmas time, love and peace and all that?" you suggested, opening your fists just a slit, hinting a surrender’s gesture.

“Trust me, slitting your throat will feel like Christmas to me.”

Your gaze flickered around, searching for any possible weapon. It was not what you found though as you noticed something above the man’s head. You couldn’t believe what you were seeing.

"Not very nice of you, kinda killing the Christmas spirit. I mean… there's even a mistletoe above your head, so…"

The disbelief must have been written all over your face, because for a second, he actually looked up. You immediately took an advantage of that, springing his direction, twisting the knife from his hand. He hissed, trying to punch you, but you were faster. You dodged and with the king of all punches, you hit him straight in his fucking face. Disoriented, he had no chance to see the next blow coming and when you jumped, placing a round kick to his baffled expression, he was done.

He fell to the ground with a loud thud, unconscious.

"Well that's what I call kiss with a fist...” you muttered under your breath and went to cuff him.

Taking the abandoned gun, you checked if there were any of his friends coming. There was no one. _Stupid, leaving him all alone…_

You went back to the screens, turning the communicators back on, only to have your ears assaulted by several voices.

“Jesus shit, Nightingale! I swear to God-“ Sam’s voice was the loudest at the moment and you couldn’t help but blink in surprise.

Who would think Sam was concerned? _Sam_ , of all people? Then again, he _had_ lost a friend before…

“Sorry guys, I'm ba-"

"Are you okay?!" Steve cried out, making you wince at the volume. Yet, you couldn’t miss the fear dripping from his voice, the way he sounded out of breath. You noticed that his dot on the screen was heading back to quinjet. _Oh._

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine-“

“We heard gunshots. Are you hurt?” Clint asked.

_Capital ‘OH’. That makes sense._

“Uhm… yeah, about that-“ You heard several breaths being drown in sharply, Steve’s dot speeding up if possible, and honestly you were a bit insulted at the lack of faith. Did they really think you had got yourself shot? “We need new locks for weaponry-“

“But you are okay?”

“I’m okay, Steve. Stop worrying, all of you. I’m a bit wounded, to be honest. Have a little faith in me.”

They went radio silent at that remark and you could see that Steve stopped in his tracks. You sighed, deciding whether you should be touched or hurt. You went with both.

“Anyway. Whose idea it was to put mistletoe in the quinjet? It kinda helped."

"You're welcome," Tony’s voice hummed over the comms and you were actually surprised it wasn’t Sam’s doing for once. "You'll thank me later, Mariah."

You rolled your eyes. Of course. Tony’s favourite nickname for you featuring the famous singer. You didn’t call him out on it for once. He might have just saved your life after all.

You eyed the screens.

“Alright, looks like you got them all, now secure the intel, blow the base to hell and let’s go home and have some Christmas.”

“Whatever you say, Blackbird.”

“Shut up, Samuel.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That’s it. That’s how it started. The idea of the mistletoe in the quinjet and a kiss with a fist. The rest just… came later.


	5. Cheater

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Vision wears a Santa hat, Sam and Clint think they’re being funny and for a moment, you let yourself believe you can steal more than just a cookie.

To your surprise, your ‘let’s have some Christmas’ actually got across.

The very next day in the afternoon – you had slept in, because night missions sucked – you woke up to a sweet scent of cinnamon, vanilla and cocoa. It was so strong you could smell it even in your room.

Your stomach rumbled in need for food, but you talked yourself into taking a shower and making yourself at least a bit presentable. Comfy sweatpants, soft hoodie and fluffy slippers on, your hair dripping wet as you didn’t want to damage them by using a hair-dryer, you patted your way to the common room.

From afar, you could hear Sam cursing and Clint laughing, immediately coming to conclusion they were playing videogames, because they were freaking children and they didn’t have enough competition on missions, during which they actually counted the number of bad guys taken down by each.

The fate of the world was in the hands of children; and you loved every single one of them, each of them in your own way. The thought made you smile fondly.

As expected, you entered the room to see exactly that – Sam and Clint bickering, their bodies moving wildly as if it could help them operate the joysticks and make the cars on the screen move the way they did, while Bruce was sitting nearby, a thick book in his hands; he wasn’t reading, watching the pair with the corners of his lips twitching.

Steve was frowning at a tablet in his hands, but looked up when you entered, giving you an inconspicuous smile. You couldn’t help but reciprocate the gesture before heading to the kitchen area to hunt down some brunch slash afternoon snack.

Only to find Vision at the stove, probably creating the source of the delicious sweet smell – which you soon identified as Christmas cookies. But that wasn’t the surprising part. Nope. It was Vision’s outfit.

He was wearing an apron, that much was normal, but… it was the Santa hat.

You chuckled at the adorable picture, catching Wanda’s grin as she re-entered the room, shrugging at your surprise. Natasha was just leaving the kitchen isle with a cup of coffee, when she glanced at Vision and stopped in her tracks.

She set the cup down again and patted Vision’s shoulder with her index finger. The moment he turned around, she placed a tiny kiss on his cheek. The android blinked, apparently shocked. Natasha honest to god giggled and went after her business, leaving the stunned man frozen.

You quickly looked above his head in a search for a mistletoe – because really, why else would have Natasha kissed him – your brows furrowing when you didn’t find any.

It was only when he turned back to the stove that you noticed it – it was on his hat, tied to the bobble. You raised your eyebrow at that, wondering if it was Wanda’s doing as well, and you made your way to the counter, pouring yourself a cup as well.

Your mouth watered at the sight of the cookies and Vision noticed.

“They’re _Christmas_ cookies. They are allowed to be eaten on Christmas Day and then on,” he informed you gently in warning and you whined.

“Okay, okay…” you mumbled, little elf or mischief waking up in you.

You leaned to Vision’s space, planting a kiss on his cheek as the Christmas tradition commanded, only to earn a shocked gasp from him – oh yeah, he had no clue about the mistletoe, you were sure now. You decided to take mercy upon him.

"That's cheating, you know,” you hummed casually, your hand slowly sneaking along the counter to snatch a cookie.

"What is?” he asked, alarmed at the idea of him being a dirty cheater in any possible way.

"Wearing it on the hat."

"Wear what?” he demanded, his face twisted in confusion. He felt around the hat, effectively smudging it with dough. It was even more adorable than him wearing the hat in the first place. Finally, his sticky fingers brushed the plant, his eyes widening. “Oh. My apologies. I didn't notice."

Sam and Clint burst out laughing, leaving no room for doubt about who had been guilty of that stunt; as Vision looked their direction, astonished, your quick fingers grabbed one of the chocolate cookies.

Cool as cucumber in December, you mostly hid it in your palm, taking your coffee with you and leaving Vision to figure himself out.

Wanda rolled her eyes at Sam and Clint, paced to Vis, took the hat off and kisses him properly on his lips.

“Hey, hey! Keep it PG-13!” the duo in front of the TV complained, looking away, but Wanda didn’t mind them. She didn’t even complain when Vision tenderly cupped her cheek and smudged a little dough on her skin as well. It made you giggle the domesticity of their relationship filling you with warm fuzzies.

You indulgingly bit into your stolen baked goods, catching a look of disapproval on Steve’s face – except his eyes were glowing with a poorly hidden amusement. Deciding you didn’t want to be the bad guy, you cracked the still warm cookie in half, offering him the untouched part.

Sharing was caring, right?

For a moment he just stared at it and then he hesitantly took it, rewarding your bad behaviour with a bright smile that warmed you way more effectively than the cookie or the coffee.

Not that you would ever admit that out loud.

“Maybe we should call you Magpie,” he noted, the smile never leaving except the moment he bit into the cookie.

You shrugged, shoving the rest of the cookie in your mouth. You swallowed before speaking up. “Girl’s gotta eat. Also, it’s a myth.”

Steve grimaced in confusion. “What is?”

“About Magpies stealing stuff. Not to mention this wasn’t shiny at all,” you noted, almost feeling bad for cracking his illusion. He didn’t seem that bothered though.

“Really? I guess we'll have to stick with the Nightingale then. What a shame,” he teased lightly.

You lowered your gaze, suddenly unable to bear the power of his smile. If you didn’t know better, you would think his expression was _fond_ and that was a dangerous thought, sending your heart racing.

“I like 'Warbler' better,” you murmured, barely audible. No one would be able to hear it – unless they had a little help from the superserum.

Yet, Steve didn’t react and you carefully glanced up. His smile was kind now, his eyes watching you with a unique spark you couldn’t quite place. It almost reminded you of aurora, equally blinding and making you wish to bath in its sweet light, let in enter your soul and melt your heart. Beautiful. _Breath-taking._

“I’m glad,” he admitted softly and you would swear the rest of the world disappeared, only you two remaining when he continued, leaving you breathless. “Just don’t fly away.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one’s rather short too, but at least it’s cute. Right? O:-)


	6. +1 From this day on

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Christmas miracle occurs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> some_fiction, please note the beverage served in this chapter.:))

You woke up with a startle, sitting up on your bed with your heart in your throat. The darkness of your room welcomed you and you released a shaky breath, running a hand down your face. Phantom of pain in your ears and once broken bones still throbbed within you and you reached for your phone with a sigh.

3:37 a.m. Great. Three and half an hour since the Christmas Day had started. You doubted you would fall asleep again.

_Merry Christmas to me._

On autopilot, you slid into your slippers and a hoodie, heading to the common room, not wanting to be between the walls that felt too close to your liking. Shuffling through the corridors, you found yourself smiling a little as you saw a dim light coming from where you were heading. Guess you weren’t the only one with nightmares.

The prospect of a night-talk with Steve made the fact you would be sleep-deprived on Christmas bearable. You liked how open he would get in those moments, letting you in, almost making you believe there was a special bond between you two. _Almost_.

You found him by the kitchen counter, making tea. He glanced up when you entered the room, giving you a sad smile.

“Hey. Want tea?” he offered politely, rewarded by your smile widening and a nod.

You took your usual spot on the couch, a mug soon pressed into your hands.

“Thank you,” you whispered as he seated himself by your side. You sat cross-legged, turning his direction a bit and he shifted as well to face you as well. You indulgingly breathed in the aroma of rooibos vanilla tea. 

“You’re welcome, Warbler.”

You snorted. Not so much of a warbler now, more like a nightingale – the name the public gave you seemed fitting. Your half-amused sound turned into a sigh.

“Bucky?”

Steve lowered his gaze, nodding.

“Yeah. The day you got your powers?”

“Yeah,” you confirmed, this time escaping his sincere eyes and huffed, actually annoyed. “I don’t even know why it’s still hunting me. I mean… it wasn’t even that terrible. A bang. A little– okay, _a lot_ of pain, but it’s been ages. Shouldn’t I be over it?” you complained lowly, looking at him again in search for answers.

His brows furrowed as he made a sympathetic face. His voice was gentle, his body shuffling just an inch closer to you. “Should you? It changed your life, turned it upside down.”

You blinked in surprise at the claim. Well. He wasn’t wrong. And by the quirk of one corner of his lips, he knew that.

Of course, gaining your powers had been… insane. Smacking a huge ‘fuck you’ label on your old life, because suddenly when you wanted someone to shut up, they would, because you could just muffle the sound waves of their voice and practically make them mute. You could sneak behind someone, because you would erase the sound of your footsteps. You could win every shout-match, at least when it came to decibels. _Everything_ had changed, even your sister looking at you a bit differently, no matter how hard she tried not to.

But… you could do good now. You could save lives. And you earned amazing friends.

“But not to worse,” you offered after a while, blowing at the tea carefully.

Steve gave you a lopsided smile. “You think so?”

“Sure. I mean… it’s not all pretty, but… yeah. I think so.”

Of course that after the first mission going wrong you had wanted to quit. Or after every broken rib. After getting a stabbed— not pretty at all, actually.

Yet, you hadn’t. You couldn’t bring yourself to do it. You wondered if you had a breaking point, but so far, it hadn’t come. You bit your lip, watching Steve as he sipped his tea. Did he feel the same about his life? Sure, your life had changed a lot, but his life… your fate was nothing compared to the spiral of insanity he had been thrown into.

“Do _you_ think so? Have you ever… regretted it? The serum?”

Steve froze, the mug halfway from his lips. His whole body stiffened and you wanted to slap yourself for such insensitive question.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to— uhm, you know….“

He relaxed, setting the mug down, his eyes roaming your face as if he was evaluating whether he should tell you.

“I don’t regret it. It allowed me to do a lot of good.”

“Can’t argue with that one,” you noted with a gentle smile, feeling there was more he wanted to say. “But…?”

He chuckled, lowering his gaze. “I went under and… woke up seventy years later. It was… it was so insane…. Lots of things have changed. I did too, I think.”

“Have you thought of… not coming back after that? To the whole… superhero business? Just go and be Steve Rogers?”

“Man out of time?” he offered dryly, but quickly smiled reassuring, seeing you winced at the wry remark. The look in his eyes seemed absent now, searching in memories. “It was familiar. Apart from that alien part, of course. But… fighting, following orders, being a soldier. It was the only familiar part and I couldn’t give that up. I… I admit there was a time when I-- doubted working for S.H.I.E.L.D. was the right thing to do, but… in the end, it has been Hydra, pulling the threads and causing that dilemma, at least for the most part.”

His gaze flickered to you, worried he said too much. But you just set down your mug as well, wriggling to get a little closer. You hesitantly reached for his hand, surprised he opened it for you. You slipped into his hold, squeezing gently.

“Funny you should say that following orders was the familiar thing and you wanted hold onto familiar… when it feels more like you simply needed to fix all the wrong in this world.” The tiniest shy smile appeared on his lips. “What about now? Do you ever have… second thoughts?”

He shook his head gingerly. “No. I get to do a job that matters, trying my best to _fix all the wrong,_ and work with amazing people on top of that. What’s not to love?”

He met your gaze at those words, sincere blue shining, sending your heart racing. For a moment, you allowed yourself to get lost in it, drown. When he added an honest smile to that, you were sure you would get a heart attack. Your eyes flickered to his lips for a split second and at instant, you mentally slapped yourself.

_Not happening, ever._

You licked your own lips that suddenly felt too dry.

“Well, don’t tell Tony. His ego is big enough without you telling him he’s amazing,” you said, your voice a bit hoarser than it should be when attempting a joke.

Steve huffed out a laugh, allowing you to breathe in, the strange moment gone.

“That is very true.”

You sat there then for several moments, staring at each other, smiling inconspicuously, no word said. It felt nice; especially since he still didn’t release your hand. He drew a circle on its back, that little gesture making you shiver.

He noticed, immediately letting go. You barely held back a whine.

_Stupid, stupid-_

“I’ll get you a blanket,” he announced casually and your breath hitched. Did he really blame it on cold? You couldn’t decide whether you were glad or not. Probably yes. It was a better option than him realizing your feeling towards him.

A thick blanket landed over your legs in no time. “Wanna watch a movie?”

You looked up at him gratefully and nodded. “Thanks. And sure, why not? You have anything on your list?”

“Do I have anything— yeah, a few…tens. But I let you pick.”

Your mind raced only for a second. “Love Actually. Obligatory Christmas movie. FRIDAY?”

“Yes, ma’am. And good morning, ma’am,” sounded above your head simultaneously with the screen lighting up. You rolled your eyes at the AI’s sass.

Steve slid beside you with a curious smile. “Sam made a reference the other day to this movie, didn’t he?” 

You tried to remember, finding the right memory too easily; the morning Steve had kissed your cheek. You prayed you didn’t blush at the sweet moment you would always cherish. “Oh yeah, he did. You’ll recognize the scene, I’m sure.”

“Okay. Uhm… you mind sharing the blanket for a bit?”

Your eyes went wide, a lump growing in your throat at the idea of that. “Yeah. Sure.”

He shifted a bit closer as you offered him the blanket. His side was touching yours now, sending you into a cardiac arrest. Which was ridiculous. It wasn’t so rare for you to touch – during training, accidental bumping in the mornings when fumbling around the kitchen counter… hell, he had dragged your ass from a mission once, _carrying you bridal style._ It had been as amazing as embarrassing, feeling his strong arms holding you, his muscular chest under your cheek-

You cleared your throat. “This good?”

“Yeah, thanks.” He took his mug in his hands again and you forced your attention to the movie. Well. You _tried_.

The thing was, you were pleasantly warm now. There was a nice movie playing, you had talked a bit, getting things out of your chest and… and your eyelids were growing heavier with each minute. At some point, you felt your head lull, falling on Steve’s shoulder.

You woke up with a jolt and your face crimson. “Sorry, sorry-“

Steve’s body slightly shook with hushed laughter. “It’s okay, Warbler.  You need some sleep.”

“People usually sleep in their bed,” you murmured, rubbing your eyes with the heels of your palms.

To your shock, Steve’s arm went to stretch over the backrest in silent offer. Your heart started pounding in your chest. “Come on. I’m allowing you to use me as a pillow.”

This was crazy. Crazy, crazy, _insane_ even.

_Let’s do insane, shall we?_

“I-I… o-okay. Thanks. But if I droll on you…”

“I let you wash the shirt,” he assured you with a soft smile and you reluctantly leaned onto him, intending to rest your head in the crook of his neck. You chickened out in the last moment.

“Is this oka-“

_“Just lie down, Warbler.”_

_“ ’Kay.”_

Despite your heart hammering against your ribcage, you felt yourself drift off in a beat. Steve was providing even more comfortable warmth, pleasant scent of aftershave and a periodic sound of his breathing; it was all you needed to enter the dreamland.

When your hair fell in your face, tickling you, breaking your soundless sleep, you felt tender fingers tucking it behind your ear. Steve’s fingertips lingered on your jaw, soft kiss landing on your forehead.

You were sure you were still dreaming, but rather swallowed the content hum that the gesture almost made you release, just in case this was real. You wouldn’t want to scare him away if it was.

 _“To me, you are perfect,”_ he whispered to your hair, sending your heart racing.

 _This_ should have woken you up. This was a clear hint that your mind was mixing up the reality, the movie and your desires; _dreaming_.

Except then came another kiss on your forehead and you couldn’t hold still anymore.

You fluttered your eyes open, your pillow suddenly tensing, the periodic breathing hitching, his lips immediately gone.

You raised your head an inch, meeting Steve’s panicked and apologizing expression; the thought of him _actually_ doing it, saying it and what more, _meaning it_ , hit you like a train and you would gladly leave this world that way.

 _“Really?”_ you whispered shyly, trying to catch his gaze as he was looking anywhere but into your eyes; until he finally did and gave a little nod, opening his mouth to speak.

He never got to say a word.

You planted a short kiss to his lips, just a feather-light touch ending too soon. He drew in a sharp breath.

_“You… you’re perfect to me too, Steve.”_

You brushed his lips with yours once more, the most electrifying feeling shooting to your fingertips.

It was nothing compared to when his hand cupped your cheek and kept you on place before you could retreat, sinking his lips into yours deeply, claiming your lower one. Euphoria erupted in your chest, lighting up every cell in your body.

You sneaked your hand to his shoulder, needing a reassurance that this was happening. His fingers tenderly caressed your cheek in return, his free arm wrapping around your waist, sending you into total bliss. 

He withdrew an inch to catch his breath, shuddering. You opened your eyes, meeting the lovely blue, now barely visible due to his blown pupils. You kissed him again, his plush lips just too close to resist. Your hand moved to the back of his neck to play with the short soft hair and he caressed his nose with yours playfully. Your eyelids fluttered close at the tenderness and you couldn’t but kiss him again.

He hummed contentedly, a low sound deep inside his chest and you felt a pool of warmth erupt in your belly, fighting the urge to climb into his lap and take the make-out session to a whole new level. You settled for sneaking your hand to his chest for now, if only for the fact that your first kiss happened like a minute ago.

It turned out to be a good thinking, because a second later, a voice disturbed your little Christmas miracle.

“Oh, wow,” Tony’s voice reached your ears and you jumped away from Steve as if you got burned, your eyes snapping open.

“Can’t see mistletoe anywhere this time,” Sam snorted, casually walking in front of the TV, only to make you realize the movie was long over.

“Look again, Birdboy,” Wanda hummed and you automatically looked up, indeed finding mistletoe hanging above your head.

How-- when-?

You shot Steve a puzzled look, but he seemed to be equally confused and embarrassed as he had been caught kissing you. Pretty heatedly, by the way. _Amazingly_. Uhm…

You gulped, gave him a shy smile and raised your gaze again. The plant was still there, but… you noticed a subtle red energy around it as if— you snapped your head in Wanda’s direction, only to find her wiggling her fingers inconspicuously.

You smiled at her gratefully. “Just following the tradition,” you shrugged, sneaking your hand under the blanket to find Steve’s for reassurance. He squeezed back.

“Really? Why didn’t you kiss Natasha like this the other day then?” Clint mocked you knowingly, making your face heat up even more as he joined Sam, both men crossing his arms on their chest in creepy sync.

They looked like disappointed and exasperated parents finding out about their teen kid having a box of condoms stashed in the back of his drawer. Which was the worst analogy that could have possibly popped up in your head, because now you were blushing twice as bad.

“Good question. And Cap, why didn’t you kiss her like that the first time in the kitchen?” Sam added and you honestly wanted to burry your face in your hands.

They knew all too well _why_. They must have known that this was a brand new thing. So why they were being such shits?

_No, don’t answer that._

Felling brave, powered by the Christmas miracle, and hoping you had nothing more to lose since your dignity was in the wind and Steve hand was still keeping yours, you turned to Clint. “You know why? Because Natasha is amazing, but I’m not in love with her.”

You felt Steve’s grip turn crushing at the words and you squeezed your eyes shut, immediately regretting speaking up. Was he about to reject you now? Now, when he knew that you…well, that you were-

“You know why, Sam?” Steve called out lowly, following your example. You waited for the reason, breathless. _Please, please, please, do not reject me-_ “Because I didn’t know she felt the same.”

You quickly turned back to Steve, astonished, your heart swelling. He gave you a gorgeous smile, just a shadow of worry on his face, disappearing when he saw your expression.

He was… was he in love with you too?

One look at him was enough of an answer. _Yes. Yes,_ he was.

You leaned in, pecking his lips softly.

He smiled at that and gazed up, reaching for the mistletoe above your head. You could sense Wanda’s puzzled look, but she let it fall into his hand.

“Thanks,” he muttered, twirling the plant in his fingers before his attention fully shifted to you again. He appeared almost sheepish all of sudden. “If I have it with me, can I kiss you whenever I want? Even after Christmas?”

You giggled at the cute gesture and took the mistletoe from his hand to throw it away, hitting Sam in his face with it by pure coincidence.

“Hey!”

Peripherally, you saw Clint shrug and quickly peck Sam on the corner of his mouth. which was followed by a disgusted noise and loud complaints. The others laughed at that, but your focus was on the man with puzzled and hopeful gaze, whose lips were only inches from yours. 

“You won’t be needing that,” you whispered a silent promise and Steve nuzzled his face in your cheek, smiling, giving you a chaste kiss on the cheek.

“Neither will you.”

\---

Much later, when all the fuss fell silent and all presents had been unwrapped, you found yourself talking to Wanda, a goofy smile on your lips.

Looking back, everything started making sense. The little moments, seemingly a game of chance, focusing on you and Steve. While you believed in Christmas spirit bringing people close to each other, you weren’t _that_ naïve.

“Uhm… Wanda?”

“Hm?” she hummed, grinning as well.

“You wouldn’t happen to know about the mistletoe mysteriously appearing and disappearing around the Tower, would you?” The Sokovian sipped her tea, not saying a word and that was all confirmation you needed – it was all on her. _“Thank you.”_

“I didn’t do anything. It was a Christmas miracle working. That you were sitting under mistletoe that morning or that Thor kissed you right in front of the captain. Or that I haven’t noticed Vis’ hat accessory until _you_ kissed him and pointed it out…” she mumbled, her smile way too bright, giving her away.

“Sure. Silly me, of course it wasn’t you. …By the way, did I hit Sam’s face on my own?”

“Nah, your aim needed a little help. You were a bit distracted though, I forgive you.”

You burst out laughing and Wanda joined you. You met Steve’s gaze from the other side of the room as he was getting you drinks and enjoyed the special smile he would only reserve for you from this day on.

The _Christmas spirits_ were working hard this year and you thanked them wordlessly, gently pulling Wanda into a half-hug.

You couldn’t even be mad when Mariah Carey’s ‘All I Want for Christmas Is You’ started blasting from the speakers and Tony with the others gave you a meaningful look, encouraging you to live up to your nickname and sing along. Especially since it led to Steve approaching you and letting you hid your embarrassed self in his embrace, kissing the top of your head with hushed laughter and mumbled ‘leave her alone’.

“She’s right, you know,” he hummed softly then and suddenly, you were glad no one could see your face for a whole different reason – your love-struck smile.

“Yeah. She is.”

_Merry Christmas to me. Merry Christmas to us._

_  
_

_  
_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still think there needs to be a tag warning about major fluffiness added to AO3. I would use it all the time. 
> 
> The Sam-being-hit-in-his-face was originally not supposed to be followed by Clint kissing him. Credit for that goes to amazing some_fiction, though I’m sure that it was not what she meant :D It was just hella convenient. Thank you :))
> 
> And thank you everyone for reading! More so, if you left kudos and/or a comment. You are the best :-*


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